Living Life
by Azerea
Summary: George looks through a photo album of his twins life and remembers all the happy memories they shared.


**Written for the Math Assessment #1 of the Fanfiction School of Imagination and Creativity Competition.**

George finally plucked up the courage to open the book that had been sitting on the table in front of him for at least half an hour. On the inside of the front cover Fred Weasley was written in what he recognized as his mother's loopy handwriting. Fred Weasley, his brother, his twin, his best friend.

It seemed that just opening the book had taken all the energy out of George and he almost closed it again. He couldn't do this. He couldn't bear to look at it. But he remembered what Ron said when he dropped it off the previous evening, "Look at it. It will help. Trust me, it will help." Maybe Ron was right. And if anything, looking couldn't make him feel any worse than he already did. Taking a deep breath George turned the page.

Staring back at him was a picture of Fred and him turning Ron's hair blue. It was their first time doing magic. Ordinarily his mother would have been angry about his father taking a picture of them upsetting Ron but she had been too proud to care.

Then there were two identical six year olds with two identical cake covered faces. George couldn't remember whose idea it was to see how much cake they could eat without using their hands. Their mother hadn't been pleased, but their father thought they looked cute and snapped a picture.

The next was the twins sitting in their parents bedroom surrounded by the jalousies they had taken off the window. Their mother had surprisingly not been angry. She had been wanting an excuse to get new blinds.

Then both boys were waving letters at their mother while jumping up and down excitedly. Two owls were flying out the window behind them. It had taken their mother nearly ten minutes to get the letters out of their hands so they could actually read them.

The next page showed a picture of Fred running towards the barrier at King's Cross station. It was one of the few pictures that had Fred without George. "My five seconds of fame," Fred always called it. "Not that I want to be famous without you, George,"

Then there was the two of them climbing on to the Hogwarts Express, attempting to lift huge trunks with identical grins covering both of their faces.

The next picture was taken the following summer. He, Fred, and Lee Jordan were on the roof of the Burrow. That was the first and only time their mother let them have friends over. The roof leaked for weeks afterwards.

Then there was Fred and George de-gnoming the garden with Ron. They had thrown all their gnomes to the area where their brother was working. It had taken him most of afternoon to realize what the were doing. Their mother had taken the picture when she still thought it was sweet how well her little boys were working together.

Next was the two of them wearing Christmas sweaters with the letters G and F on them. Very few people would have noticed that they were each wearing the wrong one. They liked to mix it up. Some Christmas's they would switch and some they wouldn't, just to try to confuse everyone. That year they had gone to their room twice and hour to swap. Even their mother hadn't been able to keep track of them.

Then they were running away from Ron after stealing his Hogwarts letter. He had been furious. Their mother had at first thought they were playing but once she realizes what really was happening she had been even more angry. They were ruining one of the most important days of their brother's life, she'd said.

The next was George and Fred driving their father's car. They had made Ron take the picture the afternoon before going to rescue Harry. They had nearly crashed into the garden when they were landing which was why they had let Ron drive to get Harry.

The next pictures weren't taken until the following summer. Their mother hadn't wanted to make Harry feel uncomfortable by taking pictures while he was there. There was a whole page of the twins in Egypt. Doing various things. Most of them would have ordinarily upset their mother but she was in too good of a mood to get too angry.

Then there was both boys on their brooms flying around the yard. It was a few days before the World Cup and the family's excitement about Quidditch was high. Ron and Ginny had come out not long after and asked to join their game. Their mother, still watching them, camera in hand, had given them such a look when the started to say no that they couldn't help but agree.

Next was a page of photograph of Fred alone working on products for their joke shop. George had taken them which was why he wasn't in any of them. They had wanted to remember how their products progressed. Fred had taken some of George, as well.

Then the twins stood in front of their shop. They both beamed at the camera. They had gotten a random passerby to take it. The man hadn't known them but he had wished them luck with their business. He came to visit the shop several weeks later and they gave him a free trick wand for his words of encouragement.

There was a page of Fred helping customers, stocking shelves, and testing new products. George's fondest memories were the days they worked together at the shop. The days they made people smile when they a had so many reasons to be sad. They both knew that this had become so much more than just a childhood dream.

George flipped to the next page unable to stop smiling. He had forgotten all the happy memories he had shared with his twin over the years. They had spent so many moments of their life together that had been wonderful, why was it he could only remember the final one?

There was one last picture, on a page all by itself. Separated from the others as if it didn't quite belong. It was the same boy as all the others, but yet it was different. He was holding his wand out, fighting. George didn't know when that one had been taken. In fact he'd never seen it before. Something about Fred's determined expressing, his unwillingness to give up, reduced George to tears. But a little voice in the back of his mind, one that he always pushed away because it hurt too much to hear it, spoke up. "Don't cry, George," it said. "I'm here. I'll always be here. In your heart and in your memory. You still have a life and a chance to live it, don't waste it crying over me."

George dried his eyes and closed the book. Fred was right, he still had a life and he was going to to make the most of it. That was what Fred would have wanted.


End file.
